Sylvanna Devlin

Last year, as my period surprised me, I heard commentary I was a biological woman. Blood was dripping down my leg, it wasn’t the first I’d heard of those confirming what they knew.

“Yay Sylvanna!”

I got the distinct impression of a private sports bar. Bets being exchanged as those who swore I was trans had to pay up.

Of course if you can manipulate a situation into existence then you can cash in when you can correctly predict the outcome.

If true, most pools would end up “stacking the cards” but some would try to force a reaction. Probably slightly against their rules.

Did you bet if I could orgasm under duress and when it looked likely I would go tantric? What would happen? Would I really lose control? What then?

“I do not belong to you.”

Crap while true you weren’t expecting that. And my body deciding it was close enough.

Do you watch endlessly? Occasionally using a psychological firing squad?

What are the stupid odds that of all people to move in next door, it’s a certain persons playmate as a child? The severe lifelong jealousy and resentment.

“Glass Swan” was alluring and his attention potent. I ran and apparently he chased in secret. Cyber stalking me to a level of scrutiny you can’t legally get.

You can guess my opinion on why my head hurts right now. Does she really have access to torture anyone? Or did he place such deep hooks in to my system alone and the rest is just gaslighting?

It’s gone beyond, “what will she believe next” or “What will she do?”

It’s no longer as fun to see if you can predict my temper. My ideas, my reactions, what I’m capable of.

Unless you can manipulate it.

And my personal luck was always a little weird.

The wiki you have? Writing it aside, Glass Swan gained access. It must make interesting reading to one who is interested in changeable women, who revert back once in a while – or only slightly and now things are similar but different.

I’ve had to reach “super hero” experiences to survive. Learn quickly. Use my body to its limits. Get decent at escape driving – then good.

Who is she? Who lied? What can you make happen?

I mean, really? I end up in the room next to her? Well she moved in while I was recovering from a suicide attempt.

I mean. Did you bet against me pulling through? I bet some did. And those that knew the odds that I could not only live, but wake? Did you cash in?

Certainly the surgeon worked hard with a quick and ready team. I’m not doubting he was dedicated to trying a new method that was only recently theory. And some would be nasty and say I was just an impoverished woman to experiment on?

Yuck.

That I was “the real Sylvanna” and someone – maybe he, yelled “No!

I personally don’t doubt his compassion and commitment. I was dying if he didn’t try and he didn’t look or care who. A surgeon of his caliber would be unlikely to find at a more expensive hospital.

He cared. And he was curious. And I don’t know why but community hospitals attract highly skilled surgeons.

Can you torture him, a world class surgeon, into blurting why he was there? Was he really on his way to try the surgery? Or do you bet on how many you can make believe your version of events.

I hope you value his brain enough that after experimenting on me you at least leave him alone.

Do you even value people? Or do you think that’s money when you establish “worth” in the most disgusting, capitalist perception of people and society?

I won’t waste my words trying to persuade you to see beauty in life, in being part of a persons life rather than spend a government sized budget, scrutinizing and watching events unfold?

I will ask you to sod off.

But I think it will take shutting you down before I can just write my own work.

Can she recover this time?

You callus, shitty, worthless, capitalist scum that has wealth and time but no other talents.

Take your bullshit elsewhere.